


Your Fire and Your Flood

by YamiSnuffles



Series: Too Much of a Good Thing [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crowley Didn't Fall (Good Omens), Alternate Universe- Both Angels, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), M/M, Pre-Relationship, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiSnuffles/pseuds/YamiSnuffles
Summary: “You need to leave. Now.”It was probably meant to be a command but it came out as a desperate plea. Aziraphale shifted about as if no part of him was sure what it wanted to do. Feet scuffed the earth, hands fidgeted with hems, and eyes danced from clouds to distant hills and back again. Crawly wished he had hands to reach out.-The Flood is coming. While Aziraphale feels bound to the Plan, Crawly does not. He might still be an angel but Heaven seems determined to pretend the Serpent of Eden doesn't exist. If that's the case, then he'll do as he pleases, consequences be damned.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Too Much of a Good Thing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527806
Comments: 40
Kudos: 187





	1. The Flood

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to all be one chapter like the rest but I needed to split it into two. It'll end dark but there will be light at the end of that tunnel.

Crawly was Heaven’s forgotten angel. They’d forgotten him during the War which would have been all fine and good if it hadn’t been so lonely. If he hadn’t still had questions he couldn’t answer on his own. So he’d gone and done something to shout out his presence for all of history and they’d decided that accidental sort of forgetting really wasn’t enough. Heaven had made it official, struck him from the rolls and did a real thorough job of it. After a thousand years, even he didn’t quite remember the angel he’d once been.

He probably would have forgotten altogether if not for Aziraphale. Aziraphale who showed him what it really meant to be an angel. Aziraphale who’d brought the stars back to him. Aziraphale who frustrated and amused in equal measure, who was a friend like Crawly wasn’t sure he’d had before.

Possibly a friend like he didn’t have now because Crawly hadn’t seen the Principality in months. It wasn’t the first time they’d been apart or even the longest. Unlike Crawly, Aziraphale still got sent on missions. That was the usual reason for their longer separations. Crawly wasn’t strictly speaking barred from these missions but he also knew he wasn’t welcome as far as Heaven was concerned. Which was fine, really. Not a problem. There was a whole world to see and he needed all the time he could get to see it, given the lack of legs and everything. And he didn’t want Aziraphale sticking around out of some sense of obligation. So he was fine on his own. That’s what he told himself and that’s what he’d assured Aziraphale.

Maybe he’d been too successful. Maybe that was why Aziraphale had just vanished without a trace. Usually if he had some job or another, Aziraphale would at least fill Crawly in on the details, let him know where he’d be and such. Could be he’d finally gotten tired of cleaning up the messes Crawly invariably created when he was bored and left to his own devices. Or there was the possibility Heaven had recalled Aziraphale and was going to assign someone else in his place. Crawly wasn’t sure which possibility was worse, that Aziraphale simply didn’t want to see him anymore or couldn’t, perhaps ever.

Well, far be it for him to start acting like he knew how to leave well enough alone. If there was something big enough to draw Aziraphale away for so long, if it was so important that he had to be kept away lest he muck something up, there had to be some sign of it. It couldn’t be that hard to find clues.

In the end, clues found him in the form of some humans. There were two of them, brothers from the look. Similar eyes. Similar noses. Even scratched their beards the same way as they pondered him. Crawly had no idea who they were but they seemed to have some idea of who he was from the way they talked.

“Do you think we need to take that one? We’re supposed to get two of everything.”

“The Serpent? No. I think there’s only one of his kind anyway, God willing.”

As though Crawly couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t understand. He wasn’t sure if he was more tempted to clarify that he was an angel or to affirm that, yes, he was one of a kind, thank you very much. Instead, he settled for flicking his tongue a bit and added in a small hiss to keep them guessing on whether or not he knew that they’d said.

It worked. They both skittered back a few uneasy steps. One looked up at the sky and jerked his chin for the other to as well. “Too late anyway. We need to get back before it starts.”

That was certainly something. Crawly waited for them to get far enough ahead that they wouldn’t notice and then followed after. Lucky for him, he moved silently by nature and had ways to slip from human perception on top of that. He was able to follow for hours as they made their way to some unknown destination. They would stop from time to time to gather animals (a pair of goats here, turtles there), which only made Crawly’s curiosity grow.

Something gradually appeared on the horizon which made him forget all about the rest. There was a boat. A really big boat. It looked more like a piece of the landscape than something humans could have constructed. Crawly suddenly forgot he was following anyone, forgot he had any other goal in mind than to stare at a massive, mind-boggling ship. He slithered around a group of humans to get a better look. Creatures of all shapes and sizes gathered at its base as humans herded them inside. Crawly couldn’t even begin to fathom what was going on.

“Crawly!”

Crawly nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of that voice. His head swivelled and suddenly he was eye to eye with the other angel. Or, eye to knee, really. He tilted his head up. “Aziraphale, where have you been?”

Aziraphale pushed through the crowd, rattling off apologies as he went. “Oh goodness. Gracious. There you are. I didn’t think I’d find you in time.”

As if Crawly was the one who had gone missing. Not that he said as much. He was too preoccupied by the wave of warmth that swept through him when Aziraphale scooped him up into worried arms and carried him to get some privacy.

“Where’d you go?” he asked. “I went to sleep and when I woke up, you were just… gone. Couldn’t sense you anywhere.”

“Ah, yes, Gabriel came.” Crawly made a noise that said what he thought of  _ that  _ but Aziraphale continued on as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “I wanted to wake you up to let you know I was going but he insisted it was far too urgent to lose even a moment more. He whisked me away that very instant and the next thing I knew I was here. And, well, you saw-” He shuffled Crawly in his arms so that he could wave back toward the ark. “They needed help gathering all the animals, what with all the fighting that would naturally occur otherwise. I guess the powers that be thought I was the natural choice given my experience with, erm… animal handling. Gabriel’s words, not mine,” Aziraphale rushed to clarify.

“Don’t see why they wouldn’t just go straight to the animal."

He meant it as a joke. A bit self deprecating, sure, but nothing serious. Aziraphale didn't seem to think it was anything to laugh about though. Concern washed over his features and pinched his brow. 

"I had wondered that. Not that exactly but the spirit of it. You're uniquely qualified to help and yet…" Aziraphale shook his head. "I shouldn't speculate. It wouldn't do to think ill of our fellows, even if I don't understand why you were kept in the dark on this, so to speak."

Crawly shouldn’t have been surprised by that thought, but he was, both because Aziraphale had been the one to suggest it and he had not. What could have happened while they were parted to make Aziraphale doubt enough to put it to voice? Whatever had happened or was going to happen, Crawly already knew he didn’t like it. He comforted himself by moving to encircle Aziraphale’s shoulders the way he normally would. However, when he did, Aziraphale made a pained noise in the back of his throat and put him on the ground.

“You need to leave. Now.”

It was probably meant to be a command but it came out as a desperate plea. Aziraphale shifted about as if no part of him was sure what it wanted to do. Feet scuffed the earth, hands fidgeted with hems, and eyes danced from clouds to distant hills and back again. Crawly wished he had hands to reach out. He wanted to do something to stop all that nervous movement. He settled for cocking his head.

“What? I only just found you again.”

“I know and I wish there was time, I wish I hadn’t been taken away so abruptly, so completely but, but there’s nothing for it. I tried to find you earlier but it’s hard to sense you since you’re not- your form isn’t angelic. And now you’re here and it’s not safe for you.” Another pained noise as a few scattered drops of rain fell. “Please, Crawly. Now more than ever it is not the time for questions.”

Crawly shrank reflexively back into himself. “Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll go, if that’s what you really want.”

Aziraphale sighed. He stilled his hands by grabbing one with the other. “I’ve been helping to oversee preparations for a flood. A very big flood.” Blue eyes looked very grey as they were turned down to the ground. “The one to end all floods, as it happens. Everything except Noah and his family, the animals on the ark, it’s all being wiped out.”

“ _ What _ ?” Crawly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wouldn’t have been like Aziraphale to joke about such a thing, but Crawly wished that he was. “Not everything?” Aziraphale nodded with a frown. “What about all the other people here?” A cringe. “Not the  _ kids _ ? You can’t kill the kids.”

Aziraphale’s face collapsed. “But it’s not too late for you. Please-  _ please-  _ get as far as you can while there’s still a chance.”

Crawly wished he could blink his eyes. Pinch himself. This had to be a weird dream. He hadn’t slept in a while since it could be dangerous on his own. He must have dozed off. It was the only explanation. “Me? You’re worried about me? What about everyone else? Aziraphale-”

“This… you have to know I don’t… it comes all the way from the top! There’s nothing I can do. It’s part of the Divine Plan.”

“Yeah, well, fuck the plan then.”

“ _ Crawly _ ,” Aziraphale gasped. He looked to the heavens, as if She didn’t already hear everything.

“I’m not part of this. I refuse to be. They didn’t see fit to fill me in, so I’ll do what I want. No reason for me to follow some plan I was deliberately left out of.”

“You can’t.”

“Why in Heavens not? Seriously, Aziraphale. And don’t just tell me that I don’t understand. That it’s ineffable, or I’ll-”

“ _ You could die _ .”

“So I might get discorporated. It’d be inconvenient but it’ll still be better than what these people will go through if I don’t do anything.”

Aziraphale knelt down. He reached out a trembling hand before pulling it back as he second guessed himself. “We don’t know that. Your situation is unique. My body is a gift. I was given it to better work alongside the humans. Your body is… well, it’s not like mine.” It turned out the desire to snort outweighed having the proper equipment to do so. Aziraphale was unphased by the noise. “We don’t know,” he repeated and his bottom lip wobbled as he did. “You could be tied to it. You could really die if it’s destroyed. And even if you are just discorporated, there’s no saying what would happen to you then.”

He was right. Crawly knew he was. The higher ups in Heaven might see his discorporation as him trying to skip out on his punishment. At best, he’d get sent down again as a serpent. At worst, they’d cook up some new punishment. He could get stuck at some desk for the rest of eternity. He could be sent back as a… as a… centipede or something. He could Fall. As far as he knew, no angels had Fallen since the War but Aziraphale was right, his situation was unique.

“I don’t care,” he said and he meant it. “Whatever happens to me, I can’t do nothing. You have to understand that, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale deflated. “I do.” He sounded positively gutted. He twisted his hands and something in Crawly’s insides twisted as well. “Just… be safe, would you?”

Crawly offered a vague sound, not willing to commit to more than that because it would be a lie and he wouldn’t lie to Aziraphale about that. Aziraphale’s face fell to a new miserable low in response but he didn’t press the issue. Instead he waved a hand and Crawly could feel a blessing sink into his flesh.

“See you around, angel.”

“I hope so, my dear.”

Crawly didn’t look back when they both turned to go. If he did, he was sure his resolve would crumble and he’d instead beg Aziraphale to run off with him. He wasn’t sure where they could even go, just somewhere they could both be safe, where neither would strain under the conflict of what they’re supposed to do and what they wanted to do. He knew Aziraphale wouldn’t go with him anyway, just as he knew he couldn’t simply leave.

He headed toward the nearest city with as much speed as he could manage, which wasn’t much. Never had he more resented his lack of legs more. While he could still perform miracles and wasn’t exactly limited the way a normal snake might be, there was nothing he could do about the way he moved. Something to do with his punishment, he was sure. If he could simply miracle himself wherever he wanted to be, he wouldn’t get all the fun of crawling in the dirt for ages on end.

He hissed in frustration as the rain started coming down in earnest. He could see a city looming ahead and it does nothing to help his mood. He’d been so proud, watching them build up a civilization from nothing. All that cleverness would be their downfall with so many bodies crammed together. There were so many humans. Too many. He doesn’t know what he was supposed to do to help them all.

Most everyone had fled inside to escape the rain. He had more than enough power to blow in their feeble doors if need be but he was sure that wouldn’t endear them to him. Not that he needed any help in that area. Those few who were still outside jumped away like nervous fawns at the sight of him. He should have expected things to be even harder than he’d planned but sometimes he fooled himself into optimism.

A vendor huddled in his stall, hoping in vain to wait out the storm. Crawly approached cautiously.

“It’s not going to stop,” he said. “I know those things seem important right now, but they’re really not. You should go while you still can.”

The vendor startled and looked about wildly for the source of the voice that had spoken to him. When he did, his eyes narrowed. “You,” the man said in a voice that Crawly had become all too familiar with. A voice that meant he’d been recognized for who and what he was. “What are you playing at? Did you cause this rain?”

“Me? Do you think I could do all that?” He could, technically, though not on the scale of the storm to come but he didn’t think that was the sort of thing to mention at the moment. “I didn’t do anything. I’m just trying to warn you. It’s going to get bad. You should get your family and go before it does.”

“This is some sort of trick. I don’t know why you’d come for me of all people, Serpent, but you’re out of luck. I’m not listening.”

Crawly hissed out a string of curses. “Listen, if you know who I am, then you should know that I know things. I’m telling you, everyone in this city is going to die if you don’t do something to get out of here  _ right now _ .” He slithered up a post that was holding an awning over the merchant’s goods and jerked his head back the way he’d come. “If you don’t believe me, fine, but you must have seen that massive boat. I saw the onlookers. No way that’s not the center of all the gossip around here. Haven’t you wondered why it was built?”

That hit the mark. The man’s head turned to follow Crawly’s gaze. From the concern that washed over his features, it was clear he had seen the ark or at least heard about it. That concern was quickly washed away. “Yeah, I’ve heard. Noah himself was around shouting about a flood. If I didn’t think it was mad nonsense then, I certainly do now that you’re saying the same thing.”

“Noah told you all and you’re still here? What is wrong-  _ why _ ?”

“I don’t answer to you. Now get out of here before I make you.”

The man pulled a dagger from somewhere in the stall and brandished it clumsily. Crawly reared back, his body ready to strike on instinct that he had to force down. He slithered away before either of them did something they both would regret and tried to find someone else who would listen. There had to be at least one person with sense. No matter who he was, someone had to see that storm for what it was.

They didn't. They wouldn’t. He was laughed at. Scorned. Some even attempted to dash him underfoot and it was all he could do not to let them. The storm was only getting worse but by the time a nearby river spilled over its banks and it was clear he wasn’t lying, it was too late.

There had been a brief moment during the first rain that Crawly had thought it would never end. When that novel spattering of water had turned into a torrential downpour, it had felt like God was trying to cleanse the Earth that he had so recently sullied through his questions. The notion had felt silly in retrospect, when it ended without anything worse than the thorough drenching of Aziraphale’s wings as he sheltered them both. That wouldn’t be the case this time. The humans might not have thought much of it yet but Crawly knew it wouldn’t end until they were all gone. Where that first rain had been a renewal, a promise of life continued outside of Eden, this would bring only death except to God’s chosen few and an ark full of animals.

The rain didn’t let up. It fell so hard that it was difficult to see. The humans finally ran but there was nowhere left to go, not anymore. No matter how far or how high, it wouldn't be enough in the end. Crawly had given up trying to convince them that he could help. The most he could do was bear witness to their ends and make that passing easier where he could. It would be kinder if he bit them the moment he met them, sank his fangs in too mortal flesh and ended it quickly. But he wouldn't. He  _ couldn't.  _ He wasn't made for such a thing even with a form that had been remade into something that should've been ruthless.

As he swam, looking for some sign of remaining life, he wondered if he ever should have hid when the first rumblings of dissent had appeared in Heaven. Aziraphale might not think it was their place to question the Divine Plan but Crawly was certain it was his place. It’s what he was meant to do. Maybe if he’d asked Her then, he would understand now. Likely he wouldn’t. He couldn’t see how anyone, even the Almighty, could make sense of  _ this _ . However, he was starting to feel like he should have tried, even if he’d Fallen for it.

A noise stopped his mind in its tracks. After days of nothing but the sound of rain falling on a flooded land, it took a moment for him to make sense of it. Then it sounded again and he understood- it was a human voice calling out for help, raw, ragged, and desperate. He couldn’t see much through the thick fall of rain and so he relied on his angelic senses to lead him to a person in need.

Out of the gloom a dark outline materialized. As Crawly drew closer, he could start to make sense of the amorphous shapes. There was a tree held fast by ancient roots to a hilltop. Tucked into the lower branches were two small children and a woman was clinging to the trunk below them. They had been fortunate to find high ground but that was quickly being swallowed up.

Crawly slithered cautiously onto what land remained. “I can help,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”

The woman whipped around in search of the source of the voice and Crawly saw when she turned that she had small babe held protectively to her breast. He could see the exact moment she spotted him because her already desperate, wild eyes grew wide and she pressed the infant closer.

“You. You’re…”

“Yes, yes. The Serpent of Eden. But if you would-”

“No,” she interjected. “Not that. You’re an angel. That’s what they say. Even if you look like that.”

“I- yes,” Crawly affirmed, taken aback.

“Then you really can help. Please. I don’t know if the rest is true, that you demand a price, but I’ll do anything. Pay anything. Just save my children.”

Crawly edged forward. The woman seemed earnest but he’d learned too much caution over the years. “There’s no price. Er, not intentional anyway. Not that I’ll ask from you, that is, but bad things do tend to happen when I try to-” He bit off the rest of the statement. Now was not the time for rambling, especially not when he could connect a long disastrous line from his first interaction with humans to this moment. Another woman. Another tree. This time he would help. “If you could just collect your children and then stand back, I have an idea.”

The woman did as asked, giving the elder of the two a hand down and scooping the other into her free arm. Once the tree was free of humans, Crawly used a miracle to turn it into a small boat. He could have made one from nothing but this would save him energy, energy he was sure he’d need to keep it afloat in the ongoing storm.

“Oh.” The woman had said she knew he was an angel but that didn’t stop her being surprised to see his powers. Or stop her from being suspicious, apparently. She carefully nudged the boat. Water was starting to gather around their toes and still she was more worried he had done something to trick her. When the boat didn’t immediately crumble or spring a leak, she helped all her children in and then joined them. “Oh, thank God,” she sighed, collapsing into a heap. “We’re truly saved.”

Crawly opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He certainly didn’t think anyone should be thanking  _ Her  _ at the moment but he also knew the value of not incurring Her further wrath. Not when she was already in a world destroying mood. Blasphemy held inside a firmly shut mouth, he slithered forward and started to nudge the boat toward the water. He hadn’t gotten far when he felt hands around him. The woman heaved him up into the tiny vessel with her and her children.

“Stay with us,” she said. “I don’t think we’ll need to wait long until we’re floating, do you?”

“Ssssuppose not. I, uh, thankssss.”

He looked at the children. The elder, a girl, was considering him with a knit brow and narrowed eyes. The younger, a boy, reached a pudgy hand to pat his head. When he accepted the touch, this emboldened the girl to prod him as well. She was more cautious in her approach, first touching his snout with a single finger. He remained docile and so she added the rest of her fingers to the effort and stroked his scales lightly.

She retracted her hand and then asked, “Are you going to eat us? If you are, could you wait until we sleep?”

“ _ Anah _ .” The girl’s mother looked mortified. “I’m so sorry. She’s just-”

“Curious,” Crawly supplied. “I don’t mind. Trust me. Questions are sorta my thing.” He turned to the girl, Anah. “No, I’m not going to eat you. I don’t eat humans. Don’t really eat at all, actually.”

“You don’t eat?”

That was the start of a series of questions that went on until night started to fall and the small human started to nod off. Crawly answered as best as he could until a sleep garbled mouth turn the girl’s words unintelligible. Her younger siblings had long since fallen asleep and her mother drew her close when she started to nod off as well.

When all of the children were asleep, their mother said, “Thank you for indulging her. It helped keep her mind off of everything else.” The woman looked out to the grey waters and then back to Crawly. “I thank you for coming to our aid but, how will we survive this? It seems there is no end to it.”

At last a questions Crawly didn’t have an answer for. He squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I swear I’ll do everything I can to make sure you do.”

The woman nodded. She opened her mouth but swallowed whatever else she’d thought to say. She sat in silence long into the night, trying to watch over her children. When at last she dropped off as well, Crawly miracled a woolen blanket over them all. It would miraculously stay warm and dry, and so would the humans beneath it.

Miracles aside, it would take more than a boat and a blanket to keep the humans alive. They didn’t have food. He might have saved them from drowning only to condemn them to starvation. He heard their stomachs growl when the next day came. The mother willingly gave of herself when her baby wailed, but even that wouldn’t be enough.

Crawly cursed inwardly as he watched their energy flag. He coiled around their huddled forms and let his own life force bleed from him. He had birthed stars. His will had fueled the burning engines of the cosmos and he’d be damned if four miniscule humans faded away on his watch. Let it rain. He would keep those fires burning as long as he had to. He was too stubborn to do anything else.

Days stretched to weeks that way. Every night, Crawly looked up. There would be no piercing through that impenetrable mass of clouds but he didn’t need to. He’d seen the stars when they’d first been made. He didn’t need something as mundane eyes to see them now. He wondered if Aziraphale was doing the same, if they’d get a chance to stargaze together again. With every day that passed, it got harder to conjure that future in his mind. The world seemed smaller when confined to that boat, tossed amongst the waves and pelted by the rain. The pitch of despair crowded the edges of his ethereal soul and eventually swallowed everything. Those four fires still burned but his flickered and the world went black.


	2. The Fire

In the beginning there was neither light nor was there dark. There was nothing. There was everything. There was Her and She was both. She was all the light and dark to come, the stars, moons, trees, and clouds. Everything and nothing. That was how Crawly felt. There was no light around him anymore, barely any in him, nor was there dark. Just nothing. And everything.

Consciousness came in fits and starts. First in the feel of droplets on his scales. It must have been rain because that was all he’d felt for weeks. It had started to feel like that was all he’d ever known. But if it was, it had slowed remarkably, no longer a downpour but the occasional drip... drip... drip. He would have thought it curious- each drop too warm, too heavy with something he felt more in his soul than his flesh- but he wasn’t in a place to be curious about anything. He was adrift in the dark and that was all he knew again before long. 

The next thing he was aware of was heat. He’d been warm from the moment of his creation. Her love burned at the foundation of every angel. It should have been enough to carry him through anything, had sustained him through the coldest nights and even in the void of space. Rain, no matter the amount, should have been nothing. He hadn’t realized just how cold he’d gotten until heat returned to his body. It came from somewhere outside him, soft and peculiarly inviting. His body was suffused with it until the spark inside him was stoked to new life. He wasn’t sure how long he continued in that nebulous existence. He was only ever aware of the return of cold for the warmth that always followed.

Finally there was song.  _ Song _ . That was something that hit him at his very core. Seraphim were made to sing for Her. Crawly had sung often, especially as he spun out constellations. Each heavenly body was another note in an infinite song. He hadn’t sung since then, hadn’t heard other angels sing for even longer. Human song had its own kind of beauty- raw and honest and vital. That it was different from angel song did not make it worse but it was different. There was no mistaking what he heard now was an angel singing. That sound was like a hook to the center of his being that yanked him all the way back to consciousness at last.

At first he wasn’t sure if he’d properly woken up. He couldn’t make sense of what he saw. He thought he was sitting amongst the clouds, but that couldn’t be. He slithered and stretched underused muscles as his mind lifted from the heavy fog of a very long sleep. The movement as much as his gradual awakening told him that he was actually swathed in a white cloak. He wriggled toward the light through folds of soft fabric.

He was in a small cabin on a ship large enough that it was barely troubled by waves. Not far away, framed against a miraculously sun filled window, was Aziraphale. That explained the cloak. He should have known instantly from the smell- which he gathered now on his flickering tongue- but the ongoing lilt of angelic song had pushed all else from his mind. It was everything in a way that made his prior nothingness feel like a distant memory. It filled him until he felt he might burst.

Not for the first time, he wished for another corporation. This one wasn't made to house so much emotion. His heart swelled. He wanted to smile. He wanted to cry. He couldn't do either, so instead he used a voice laden and hushed with feeling to speak the only truth that mattered to him. 

" _ Aziraphale _ ." And that, too, was everything.

If only it hadn't meant an end to the song. Aziraphale silenced immediately and spun on his heel. His mouth hung in a wobbling, wordless circle. Shock, sorrow, joy, and more all washed quickly across expressive features. Crawly had forgotten just how blue those eyes could be, especially swimming in unshed tears.

"Oh,” Aziraphale said, finding his voice at last. “ _ Oh _ ,  _ Crawly _ , you're-"

Aziraphale rushed forward and bent smoothly to draw the whole unwieldy mass of Crawly’s serpentine form into his arms. The long body of a snake wasn't meant for hugging, so Crawly met him halfway by winding around Aziraphale's torso. It meant Aziraphale was left hugging himself as much as anything but it was enough.

Tears fell from Aziraphale's eyes and suddenly Crawly understood what he'd felt before, the rain that wasn't rain. "Hey, I'm alright," he said, not wanting to be the source of Aziraphale's pain. "I'm okay."

"You silly- You foolish-" Aziraphale blustered in a voice that might have been successfully cross if it hadn’t come from between gasping, shaky breaths. "You- you impossible serpent. I thought you were gone. You nearly were."

Crawly nuzzled into the downy hair at the base of Aziraphale's neck. He couldn't bear to see the other angel cry, especially when he was the cause. "Sssssorry."

"You should be." Aziraphale hiccupped over another sob and quieted as he tried to even out his breathing. "I don’t know if the water really would have killed you but that, that… absurdity might have. Whatever were you thinking?"

"Wasn't, really. Just sort of… did it.”

Aziraphale tilted his head to aim a withering look at the snake on his shoulders. “You just decided syphoning off your own ethereal energy was the best thing to do?”

“Yes?” Crawly buried his head at the juncture of Aziraphale’s neck. “I was tired, okay? You don’t know how long I spent trying to convince someone,  _ anyone _ , to listen to me. But all any of them ever see is the Sssserpent of Eden.” He hated that phrase, hated what it represented and that he could never escape it. “A thousssand yearssss like thissss. They whissssper and tell sssstories sssso everyone knowssss.” Of course his hiss would become more pronounced now and he hated that too. “I was so tired,” he continued when he was certain his voice wouldn’t betray him. “And desperate. I wasn’t about to let the only humans who believed in me die.”

Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. He reached around to stroke gently along Crawly’s back, leaving a trail of warmth wherever he touched. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”

Crawly melted into the touch. For a moment he was able to imagine that everything actually would be fine and then he stiffened. He slithered around so he could talk face to face. "Wait, where are the humans?" His whole body went slack, sure of the answer already. "It didn't work, did it? I screwed it up and they didn't make it anyway. I promised.  _ I promisssed _ and still…"

“Crawly, no. Shhhhh, no, no, no,” Aziraphale soothed. “They’re fine. Just fine.”

Crawly was so busy cursing up a storm that it took a second for him to process what Aziraphale had said. “They’re… alright?” he asked, not daring to hope until it was confirmed again.

“More than, I’d say, given they were sustained for so long by celestial energies. I can take you to see them when you’ve rested up more.”

“I don’t need more sleep. I mean, probably do, but I already got a lot. I think. How long was I out?”

“Well-”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be able to get more sleep until I see them for myself. So if you won’t take me, I’ll just find them on my own. I’m sure I can sniff them out.”

Crawly moved to drop from Aziraphale’s shoulders but was stopped by a firm hand and a sigh. “Alright. Promise me you’ll try to rest up more after, though.”

“Promise,” Crawly replied without hesitation.

Once out of the cabin, a wave of animal smell hit Crawly. They didn’t have far to go. They passed tall fenced stalls that held elephants, camels, and giraffes. One of the giraffes had its neck curved to look into the next stall over, the one that Aziraphale approached after a furtive glance about.

“Miriam, I’m coming in,” he warned as he undid the latch. “I’ve got someone with me that I thought you might want to see.”

“You’re bringing someone?” came a woman’s nervous reply. “Who- oh.”

Crawly saw instantly what Aziraphale had meant about the humans being better than alright. There was the slightest glow to them, visible in the dim corner where the two elder children were huddled behind their mother, Miriam. As soon as they saw who was with Aziraphale, they all rushed over, the children in an excited jumble and their mother at a more controlled pace. Anah and her brother Reuel hopped up and tried to grab onto the end of Crawly’s tail but were stopped by Aziraphale.

“Alright now, children, Crawly has been through a lot. Best to look and not touch,” he tutted.

The children pouted in unison. Joy bubbled up inside Crawly at the sight of their innocent, open petulance. There they were, clearly considering disobeying the Principality, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s no fun,” he said and he dropped down without further warning.

The children shrieked and giggled. They stumbled with pudgy legs amongst his many winding coils while their mother and Aziraphale looked on with matching exasperated expressions. Their petting was far from gentle but Crawly enjoyed it more for that. He could still remember perfectly the way they’d hardly dared get near him at first. Now it was clear they could hardly get close enough.

“Az- Azira…” Anah screwed up her lips. “The other angel said you were sleeping and that we had to leave you alone. If you don’t need to eat, why do you need to sleep?”

“Because I  _ like  _ to sleep,” Crawly answered. Which was the truth, if not the whole truth of the situation. He didn’t like lying when answering questions but he didn’t think a teeny tiny omission would hurt in this case, given that the alternative was to risk the children feeling guilty for something he’d chosen to do. “Sleeping is great. Sometimes I think I would like to nap for a year.”

“A year?” Reuel gasped.

“Maybe a hundred.”

This was met by a peel of laughter from both Anah and Reuel who clearly thought he was joking. Which, he was. Sort of. A bit. Maybe.

“Wanna see the ostriches?” Anah asked, veering to another topic without warning the way only a child could.

“And sheep!” Reuel chimed in.

“Sheep are boring.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh. We can always see sheep.”

Aziraphale held his hands up. “Children, we can see whatever you’d like.” He closed his eyes a moment and Crawly could feel him probing for the presence of any other celestial beings. One snap later to ensure they went unnoticed and he added, “Lead the way.”

The children scampered out of the stall, followed by their mother and baby brother, and finally the two angels. Crawly rode on Aziraphale’s shoulders so that he could actually see the animals. The children were more than happy to chatter at length about each animal they passed and Crawly was happy to listen. He found he was actually fairly interested since most creatures tended to give him a wide berth. The miracle that made them all more docile for life on the ark ensured he could get a good look without any of them panicking.

He wasn’t sure when he nodded off. Sleep was usually something he chose to do instead of something that simply fell on him, but one moment he was enjoying the children’s glee at the snakes and the next, he was nestled back in Aziraphale’s robes. Starlight washed the floor in a soft glow. Aziraphale was seated next to him, legs folded primly underneath himself. He was humming some human tune to himself and startled slightly when Crawly stirred.

“Awake again I see.”

“Nnnnh,” was Crawly’s eloquent response. He felt cold again and slithered up into Aziraphale’s lap in search of warmth. “How long was I out this time?”

Aziraphale conjured extra heat into his palms and stroked along Crawly’s spine. “Not long. Only a few hours. I do believe you’re properly on the mend at last.”

Crawly couldn’t manage much more than a thoughtful noise in response. The heat felt so nice and when he didn’t say anything more, Aziraphale started to sing the same tune he’d hummed before. Crawly thought it sounded familiar but Aziraphale had replaced the words with cheerful sounding nonsense. Combined with the ever present lap of water against the hull, it threatened to put Crawly right back to sleep. He would have happily submitted if it hadn’t meant he was liable to forget once more something he’d wanted to say.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Whatever for, my dear?” Aziraphale responded without pausing the soothing motion of his hand.

“The humans. You didn’t have to rescue them. I know you’re not supposed to.”

“Ah, well…” And now Aziraphale pulled back into himself and wrung his hands together. “No, I’m not, but no one ever said I couldn’t help you. So when I finally found you and you had the humans with you, what choice did I have? Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to save them but you’d already done that and I wasn’t about to kill them. Whether I did it outright or simply left them, it would all be the same thing in the end. Which meant there was only one thing to do. And you were all huddled together and really, it was just easier to take the whole boat and all its occupants than try to extricate you from the lot.”

Crawly could tell from the way Aziraphale was rambling that he’d rehearsed those excuses a few times in case he had to explain himself. “How’ve you kept four humans from going unnoticed?”

“It would seem most of the angels find all the animals a bit… distasteful, so they’ve mostly left me to it. Gabriel in particular, who was meant to keep me updated on when I might see land again. As for Noah and his family, they trust me to keep things in order.” Aziraphale squirmed and his gaze skipped around in search of sudden intruders. “So it’s really been no bother. Certainly nothing to thank me for.”

“You did a lot, Aziraphale. They all seemed happy and healthy. Don’t say that was all down to me because I haven’t been doing much of anything for a while. After everything they’ve been through, you made them smile again. You did that.” Crawly knew how difficult it must have been for Aziraphale. The Principality seemed forever torn between what he felt was right and what he thought Heaven wanted from him. He’d gone above and beyond even knowing it could get him in trouble. “So, yeah, think I actually do have to say thanks.”

Aziraphale squirmed again but it was clear he was pleased from the way his lips curled up despite himself. “When you put it like that, I suppose I must.” He averted his eyes and his cheeks tinged with pink. “Though I feel far from altruistic. I did it for you. Because of how much you’d given. Because of how I…”

He trailed off, leaving Crawly to wonder. And wonder he did, about that angel with self conscious crimson painting the tips of his pale ears and the light of a halo glowing delicately from just this side of reality. Aziraphale had gone so far out of his comfort zone, risked the wrath of heaven, all for him. A snake, the Serpent of Eden.

Again Crawly felt something too big, too complex for this simple corporation. It filled him and filled him and filled him, bigger than the wrathful sea outside. How could he feel something so huge? He doubted there’d be any containing it even if he’d had his proper form. He was a star too heavy to sustain itself, a supernova waiting to be born. He didn’t know how else to put it, even to himself. He didn’t think he’d ever felt something like this. It was all consuming and yet it gave and gave.

It was everything and it was nothing. It was-

_ Oh _ .

“Aziraphale, I- I think…”

“Hmm?”

He couldn’t say it. Were angels even allowed to love in this way? This was no wide, encompassing love for creation nor the intrinsic act of being that was loving Her. This was specific, desirous, needing of another like a mortal might need for air. Even if it could be holy, Crawly wasn’t sure it could be when coming from him. It would drag Aziraphale down. Aziraphale was meant to soar in the heavens, not be forced down into the dirt.

“What is it?” Aziraphale prompted again.

This feeling was a revelation but Crawly couldn’t reveal it. He’d rushed in too often and stumbled into folly. He couldn’t risk that. “I think I… might sleep again. For a bit.” There. That was better. Safer. “Could you stay with me? Maybe sing a bit? Helps me sleep.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale replied, his smile beatific.

Crawly slithered back into the pile of robes though he’d never felt warmer than he did with Aziraphale’s thigh pressed against him and a song drifting through the air just for him. He hadn’t thought what he felt could grow anymore but there it was, bubbling up. He had the same feeling he did when he’d first awakened from his long slumber, that he was swathed in clouds rather than fabric. He buried himself in the robes, sure that if he continued looking at Aziraphale he would burst.

Once more, impossibly given how he felt, sleep claimed him. It was not darkness that met him this time but a dream of the stars. Six wings carried him in a familiar dance. It felt right, better than it had when he’d done it in the waking world because this time Aziraphale was with him. They flew hand in hand to every one of Crawly’s creations. When there was no more to show, Crawly let out the feeling that was burning to be free and turned himself into a star just for Aziraphale.

He lingered blissfully in that dream until the sun on his eyelids couldn’t be ignored any longer. A smile remained painted on his lips despite the stiffness in all of his limbs. He indulged in a languorous stretch and yawned so wide it was a miracle his jaw didn’t end up unhinging. His fingers were buried deep in tangled curls before anything struck him as odd.

“You’re- you- you’re… oh my.”

Aziraphale’s stunned stammering confirmed it. He knew what he felt but he still had to look down, to press fingers into lightly freckled skin, in order to believe it. He was a tangle of limbs piled at Aziraphale’s feet. He had his body back.  _ His _ . It didn’t make a bit of sense and he expected scales to sprout at any moment, but there was no denying it.

He thought of conjuring some clothes but decided for the moment that he’d rather wear Aziraphale’s discarded cloak. He didn’t care one speck that it was too large. He liked it more for that. Delighted laughter burbled up and escaped his lips-  _ his lips _ \- as he tried to get to his feet. It continued, even as he stumbled. It would have kept going until he hit the deck with his face but Aziraphale caught him first. Heat blossomed in his skin where Aziraphale’s hands made contact. Even if his legs hadn’t felt confusing at the moment, being so close to Aziraphale this way would have robbed him of the ability to walk all the same. His knees were uselessly weak.

“Careful now,” Aziraphale said softly as he tucked himself under an arm. “You’ll need some time to get used to your legs.”

“My legs,” the seraph repeated with a wide, crooked smile. “ _ My legs. _ ”

Aziraphale snapped and a pile of cushions appeared. He lowered the other angel onto them and then cocked his head. “It’s good to see you again,” he said. The skin about his eyes crinkled with his smile. Those blue eyes blew wide suddenly. “Oh. I remember now. You’re not Crawly. You’re-”

“Don’t.” A shiver passed through new skin. The former serpent couldn’t pin a finger on exactly why he dreaded hearing his old angelic name, only that it filled him with a distinct sense of wrong. “That’s not me anymore.”

“Not you?” Aziraphale asked, perplexed. “My dear, it’s your God given name. You’ve earned it back and you’re saying you don’t want it?”

“Nope.” The seraph picked absently at his fingernails and toes. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he considered. “Not that. Not Crawly either.”

“If you insist,” Aziraphale huffed.

“I do.”

“What should I call you, then?”

A good question. He drew in a long breath until he felt truth lodge somewhere in between his ribs. “Crowley,” he answered and he instantly knew it was right.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale echoed and if Crowley hadn’t known before, it was sealed as soon as he heard it come out of those lips. “If that makes you happy then, yes, I think it suits you.”

Crowley flashed his teeth in response. “Suits me, huh?”

He wasn’t sure who he was right now. His skin felt familiar and foreign all at once. He grabbed one of his feet and hooked it behind his neck. He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to do that. He wiggled his various digits and felt the pull of muscles and tendons as he stretched out his limbs again. He felt a bit looser at the joints than he had before but otherwise normal. He stuck his tongue out until he could see the rounded pink tip of it. Normal too. Unless… He concentrated and it forked at the end, falling somewhere between human and serpent. Concentrate more and it was back again. He was fairly certain if he really wanted to, he could be a snake again, but he didn’t want to.

Aziraphale watched him with a bemused smile as he continued testing the new parameters of his body. “Do you have any idea how this happened.”

“Nope,” Crowley said, popping the ‘p’ and thoroughly enjoying forming his mouth around words again instead of just willing them to come. “And for once, I’m not going to question it.”

He set his feet flat and pushed up in another attempt to stand. His hips swayed this way and that. He probably would have fallen again except that he pulled his wings out to balance him. A pleasant tingle ran up his spine. They ached to be used. His current quarters weren’t large enough to really stretch them, which only left him with one option.

He folded them tight against his back and reached out to take Aziraphale’s hand firmly in his own. “Come on.”

“Where to?”

“Just come along, would you? More fun if I show you.”

Aziraphale gave a small, tight nod. Crowley thought it was the other angel who was trembling and then he realized it was him. That wouldn’t do. He pushed past that jittery feeling, took a few gravity defying strides forward, and then hopped out the window, taking Aziraphale with him. Aziraphale all but fell out after. Crowley pulled the startled blond into his arms and they floated down together with the aid of six star bright wings.

He couldn’t help but laugh again as they made a soft landing on the surface of the water. He released Aziraphale from the embrace and took a few more increasingly steady steps. When he didn’t fall straight on his ass, he took another step, skipped, hopped, and fluttered forward. It was all marvellous. He could have spent the next thousand years reacquainting himself with everything he’d missed in the last thousand.

Aziraphale followed after him with a more controlled gate. “You really have no idea why you got your body back?” he asked. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Given the timing, I suppose it must be what you did for the humans. Which, if that’s the case, Her plan truly is ineffable.”

Crowley twirled about on one foot and looked straight into eyes the same blue as the water beneath their feet. His heart pounded hard in his chest.  _ Love _ , it said.

“Not a clue,” was the easy lie, though only a partial one at that. He knew in his soul what this was about but that didn’t mean he knew the reasoning. Perhaps She was rewarding him for not sullying Aziraphale with this imperfect, all too human love. “Like I said, not questioning it.” He extended a hand toward Aziraphale. “Fly with me?”

Aziraphale let out his own wings with a contented sigh and took Crowley’s hand. “I’d love to.”

Love. Love.  _ Love _ .

Hand in hand, they took flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the self inflicted pining begin!


End file.
